


A snowball for you...

by theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 12daysofsterek, Christmas Prompt, Derek Hale is a romantic, Drabble, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming/pseuds/theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming
Summary: Based on the prompt: I made an extra big snowball to throw at my friend but I missed and accidentally hit you in the face instead and you slipped and fell and I ran to your help but also slipped and fell on top of you and we can’t stop laughing. Wow your eyes are pretty AU
Written for the 2016 "12 Days of Sterek"





	

“Scott! Scotty, my boy! Wake up. The sun is shining and there is fresh snow on the ground!” Stiles burst into Scott’s room at 8 am.

“Stiles,” Scott grumbled, “it’s 8 am on a Saturday. I was at the clinic until 1 am last night, let me sleep.”

“But Scotty, SNOW! It’s that one time of year that the snow is actually sticking to the ground.”

Stiles quickly crossed Scott’s room and flung himself on top of Scott. He flopped over so he was facing the ceiling and started making cover-angels.

“Scott, no offense, but your covers are just not the same as fresh fallen snow.”

Scott growled from where his face was buried under his covers. This was not the first time, and certainly not the last time, that Stiles would wake him up way too early on his day off.

“Alright Stiles,” Scott sat up quickly, effectively knocking Stiles to the floor, “Let’s go play in the snow like the 8 year old you still apparently are.”

Stiles fist pumped and threw himself to his feet. He skidded out of Scott’s room, heading down the hallway to his room in their small two bedroom apartment they had started renting when they graduated high school. Scott heard a large crash come from the other room as he calmly got dressed. He shook his head. It would be a miracle if they manage to get their deposit back when they move out.

Thirty minutes later both boys were headed out the door. Scott had insisted he was allowed to eat breakfast before they left, citing that Stiles owed him that much for waking him up. Stiles had begrudgingly agreed.

They headed down the stairs towards the parking lot where Rosco sat.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t just go in back of the apartment building. There is plenty of snow out there,” Scott complained as Stiles unlocked the doors.

“Because Scott, Mrs. Laurens takes her dog out back and I’ve watched her multiple times NOT clean up after him. I will not put my faith in your werewolf nose today,” Stiles scoffed, as if Scott should have known this already.

He drove towards Beacon Hills Community Park. The park was a small area of land in the center of town. There was a picnic area, volleyball and basketball courts, and a decent sixed playground.  If Stiles was in the mood for snow forts he would have run straight for the playground, but he was here for a different purpose. His focus was the center of the park where a large open field sat. As he and Scott arrived at the park, it appeared that many people had the same idea as Stiles. The open area was filled with people making snowmen and snow angels.

“This is it, Scott. This is why we didn’t just stay home. Snowball wars need way more than two people,” Stiles beamed as he jumped out of the jeep. He took off running towards the open space, sliding to a stop in the middle.

Scott kept an even pace walking towards where Stiles was frantically making snowballs.

“Come on Scotty. This is prime packing snow. No time to waste!” Stiles continued to pack snow like a mad man.

Scott rolled his eyes, long ago accepting his friend’s wild antics.  Ten minutes later, Stiles had a 3 foot wide pile of snowballs. On the other hand, Scott’s pile was like any normal person’s pile would be – 20 small snowballs in a neat pyramid.

“Alright Scott, we are against each other, fight to the death style. No werewolfy powers either. I remember the feelings of those lacrosse balls.”  
Stiles picked up one of his snowballs, lightly tossing it in the air and catching it again. He glanced around the field and a wicked grin crossed his face.

 

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!”

He lobbed the first snowball at Scott. It hit Scott square in the chest and burst back into powder. Scott looked down at where the snowball hit him. His competitive side was slowly reaching the surface. He bent down to pick up one of his own snowballs only to be peg in the face by another of Stiles’ snowballs.

That was it. That was all that Scott needed. He threw his snowball at Stiles, hitting him in the arm.

“I’ve been shot,” Stiles clutched his arm as he dramatically fell to the ground.

As Stiles lay on the ground pretending to be dying, he watched other snowballs fly above his head from behind him. He excitedly flipped over to look at who threw them and saw 10 people making their way over to where Scott and Stiles were standing.

Five minutes later the snowball war was in full force. Couples had spilt apart to stand on opposing sides of the field. Parents and children faced each other across an invisible line. It was everything Stiles had ever wanted in winter… until he was pegged right in the face by Scott. He used both hands to clean the snow out of his eyes.

Stiles quickly bent down and grabbed five of his snowballs. He packed all five together to make a giant glob of snow. He took off running across the field towards where Scott was standing. He wasn’t using any sort of sneak attack, since Scott would hear him coming. He just wanted to get extra close to Scott to make sure he wouldn’t miss. When he was within five feet of Scott, he threw that snowball as hard he could at Scott’s head. An audible “oof” could be heard and Stiles started cackling.

Three things happened in the next 30 seconds: Stiles stopped laughing to notice that he hadn’t actually hit Scott at all, his eyes about popped out of his head when he noticed who he had hit, and he started planning his own funeral in his head.  It shouldn’t be a surprise that Stiles missed when he was standing so close. He was never that good at lacrosse either. However, in lacrosse, he never managed to hit someone that was innocently walking through the snow who happened to be a big grumpy alpha werewolf.

“Oh My God, I’m dead,” Stiles thought to himself as he foolishly rushed to where Derek now lay on the ground.

Stiles was slightly confused how his large snowball and human strength knocked a full grown werewolf to the ground, but he would have more time to reflect on that later when Derek will probably take him hostage.

“Derek, I am so sorry. I was aiming for Scott and well, lacrosse hasn’t taught me much. I didn’t even see you,” Stiles was talking quickly and flailing, forgetting to breathe.

As if Stiles wasn’t already in enough hot water, his feet decided to betray him as well. One moment he was standing up-right talking over Derek and the next he was falling face-first on top of Derek.

“Please have mercy on my frail body, Derek, this is all just a big mis…” Stiles’ words were lost to Derek’s lips.

In Stiles’ confusion, Derek had used the opportune moment to finally kiss the boy he’d been crushing on since the day Stiles saved him from the kanima in the pool.

“Well that was not,” Stiles said as he broke apart the kiss, “has anyone ever told you your eyes are beautiful? Like pools of swirling colors and…”

“Stiles, for once, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Right. Yes. Of Course.”

* * *

  
Years later, Derek might tell Stiles that he was purposely in that park that day, that he dramatically fell to the ground in the hopes that Stiles would come rushing to his aid like he had been for years. While Stiles had the dream of having snowball fights, Derek wanted the traditional romantic Christmas movie kiss, complete with tripping, falling, and goofy smiles.

Scott still makes comments whenever they watch Christmas movies, “Oh look, it’s Stiles and Derek and their cheesy first kiss.”

Stiles isn’t even mad.

 


End file.
